


A Scientific Method

by musiclily88



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Blow Jobs, Boarding School, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Sexual Experimentation, and banter, it's just porn, just porn, what the fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:30:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclily88/pseuds/musiclily88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So. I have a thought."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Scientific Method

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing and I know nothing. If I knew anything, I definitely wouldn’t be writing this.
> 
> Prompt came from a drunk friend of mine who demanded I write him boarding school erotica featuring Niall, “you know, that blond one from One Direction?” YES I MAY HAVE HEARD OF HIM A TIME OR TWO. He further requested a theme of experimentation. I’ll leave the gay panic to your imagination, shall I?
> 
>  
> 
> This project will be my ruin.
> 
> (Porn. Awkward come-ons and porn. That’s all this is. Stupid banter, a sloppy porn scene, and some more ridiculous banter to fulfill my friend’s boarding school kink. So sloppy. So sloppy. I’m sorry.)

“I just can’t any more, Niall,” Amy murmured, eyes wide and wet, lips pursed. She fidgeted with the button of her collared shirt, looking away from him.

He looked at her and shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he replied, learning forward from his perch on her desk chair. He settled his hands atop his trousered thighs, the woolen material harsh against his skin.

She shrugged, curling up tighter against herself and leaning against her headboard. Her pleated skirt fell around her legs easily, framing her slim limbs and contrasting the pale-yellow paint of her dormitory room.

“I can’t, like. Just can’t.”

 _She just couldn’t,_ just like her dark-blonde hair was beautiful, her face was symmetrical and lovely, and he simply _didn’t understand._

“Can’t what?” Niall leaned back, face heating with a sting, as though the universe had slapped him. “Can’t do what?”

“Do this. Us together, it’s just not working.”

He clenched his jaw shut, disbelieving. He was unused to feeling disbelief, and he wasn’t sure it suited him. “What?”

“Honestly, love. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known and I love you, but just. We’re not right, are we?” She raised her hands uncomfortably, placating, the sleeves of her uniform cardigan sliding up her forearms. She was pretty, the prettiest, Niall thought, even in faded navy-blue in a small dormitory bed.

“We’re not?”

“Hey, like, it’s not about you. I just. Honestly. I think I might be a lesbian?” she responded, biting her lip as she ducked her chin down. Her wavy hair tumbled around her, catching the light like she might have a halo.

“Oh,” Niall breathed, his chest feeling empty. “Okay.”

“It’s nothing—nothing against you. Honestly. I love you a lot. But this was never going to work, was it?”

“Well, I. That is. I guess not.”

***

Niall trudged back to his dorm room, uniform trousers chafing against his thighs. There were times he enjoyed attending boarding school, natch, and there were times he loathed it. This was a loathing-it time, likely because he couldn’t easily escape to find someone to comfort him the way he needed.

Luckily his roommate Louis was a good sort of lad, someone who wouldn’t question him or give him a suspicious side-eye in most situations.

“Lou,” he greeted as he shoved his way into their shared room, dropping his bag.

“Not Lou.”

Niall snapped his head sideways to Louis’ side of the room, narrowing his eyes. “Oh. Hey.”

“Harry,” the occupant said, ducking his chin down bashfully. Harry was tucked carefully into Louis’ bed, curled against duvet and pillow. He had dimples and chestnut hair and bright eyes, and Niall nodded as soon as he entered the room.

“Right, Harry, I know who you are. You don’t need to introduce yourself every time you come to hang out with Louis.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He shifted sideways so the textbook nudged away from his body. “Think I’m just used to people forgetting who I am.”

Niall rolled his eyes, smiling indulgently. “With a face like that, I really doubt anyone forgets who you are, like, ever.”

Harry sucked in his bottom lip, flushing slightly. “Was—is that a good thing?”

“Yeah. It’s a good thing.”

“Thanks.” Harry shifted again, effectively closing the book in favour of looking at Niall, who flopped down onto his own bed.

“What were you reading?”

“Chemistry. Dead dull, glad for a distraction, really.”

“Ah.” Niall nodded. “Not fond of experimentation, then,” he added with a carefully small smile.

Harry turned pink at that, but shot back an easy grin. “That really depends on the nature of the experiment.”

“Course.” Niall shrugged, falling onto his back, pillowing his arms behind his head.

“Why, you offering?” Harry dumped his textbook onto the floor.

“Could be.”

Harry chuckled quietly. “Has that line ever actually worked for you, mate?”

Niall was startled into laughter, turning to look at Harry, who was staring at his curiously. “There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

“I think that was the exact point you were making, yes,” Harry mused, biting his bottom lip again.

“Your first time, too, then?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Ah. You and Louis?”

“Oh, you know.”

Niall shook his head. “Can’t say that I do.”

“Oh.” Harry’s eyebrows knitted together and he nodded slowly.

Niall pulled a puzzled face, levering himself up to rest on an elbow as he looked at Harry. “Are you for real?”

He grinned brightly. “Absolutely.” He shook his head forward, ruffling one hand through his hair. “So I have a thought.”

“A thought.”

“I reckon you’ll like it,” Harry added, slithering off of Louis’ bed purposefully. He grabbed Niall’s nearby desk chair and shoved it beneath the doorknob, rattling it to assure himself it would keep the door shut.

“Oh? And why do you reckon that.”

“You don’t seem that hard to please,” Harry responded with a light shrug.

Niall snorted. “That doesn’t really sound…” he began, arching a brow.

“No, I don’t mean it like that. What I mean is, like. You’re always laughing or smiling, like absolutely everything is a marvel to you. Usually,” Harry clarified. “But right now you look like—I don’t know. You look proper upset.”

“I’m fine.”

Harry hummed slightly. “I know what people look like when they’re lying.”

“You don’t know what I look like when I’m lying,” Niall countered quietly, pulling at the collar of his starched uniform shirt. He felt a strange combination of over-warm and confused.

“Whatever you say.”

Niall heaved out a sigh. “Amy split with me, yeah? No big deal, whatever.”

“Oh.” Harry nodded resolutely and got out of Louis’ bed, walking over to Niall’s bed slowly. He peered down at him contemplatively.

“You just gonna stand there like a baby deer, then?” He grinned to cover up his fluttery nerves, still pulling slowly at his collar.

“Might do.”

“Probably shouldn’t.”

“What, you think just cuz this is your room you get to dictate what happens in it?”

“Obviously. You’re bit of a minx, Styles. You know that?”

Harry threw his head back with a loud cackle. “Take off your fucking tie, Niall, it’s not doing anyone any favours,” he demanded quietly as he shucked off his own jumper and tossed it aside.

“Might be doing me a favour or two,” Niall insisted quietly, cheeks flushing.

“Unless you’re gonna let me bind you to the headboard, mate, you should really get rid of it,” Harry spouted, cheeks flushing pink to show he was maybe, _maybe,_ not as confident as his brash words implied.

Niall ripped the silky fabric out from around his collar, tossing the tie across the room. “That’s a hurdle too high, I think.”

Harry nodded, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. “Noted. May I?” he said next, gesturing to Niall’s prone figure.

“So polite.” Niall worked his way upright slowly as Harry straddled his thighs, 

“Yeah, well, that’s how I was raised to treat closet cases,” Harry responded, pressing gently against Niall’s shoulders so their melded bodies tipped back against the mattress.

Niall laughed lightly, eyes brightening. “Experimentation, that’s all.”

“Right, you’re such a student of science.”

“Eager to learn,” he agreed.

Harry set his jaw on determined edge. “If you freak out, you only need to tell me to stop.”

“Yep, kind of past that right now, actually,” Niall said quietly, grinding up into Harry, who was still seated on his lap.

“Oh. Good.” Harry leaned forward, placing his hands above each of Niall’s shoulders before he leaned down to place a gentle, closed-mouthed kiss onto Niall’s lips.

Niall smiled into it, returning the kiss sweetly, before wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. Their lips were warm and kind for a moment until the kiss turned strangely heated, grinding up and down against one another.

Harry planted his arms sturdily against Niall’s ribcage, shoving him neatly into the mattress without due fuss. He smiled slightly as Niall struggled against his grip, as he jiggled side-to-side against Harry’s caging arms. “Oh hush, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m just—not used to being on the bottom, I guess.”

“I bet you’re not used to a lot of things, mate, but we’re not going there right now,” he murmured, ducking low to plant a row of kisses along Niall’s jaw. “Pretty sure you’re not ready for that.”

“Then—what are you doing?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” He clenched his legs around Niall’s upper thighs, grinding down incrementally, slowly.

Niall sucked in a deep breath, spine arching as he pressed into Harry’s legs with his own. “F-fine,” he stuttered, shutting his eyes tight.

Harry pressed his lips onto Niall’s cheek gently, and he felt a smile carve into the warmth of his face. Niall moved his fingers to the hem of Harry’s jumper as best he could, pressing underneath the knitted fabric until he felt hot skin. The feeling grounded him.

Harry roamed his fingers downward, carefully dipping them into the waistband of Niall’s uniform trousers. His eyelids fluttered shut, and he could feel the fringes of his lashes against the tops of his cheeks. Harry undid Niall’s fly and pressed his fingers above the elastic of the boxers beneath.

Niall swallowed and shivered, reveling in the pressure of the less-than-gentle touch. His fingers were calloused and even the kindest gesture was—tougher than Niall was used to, just as practiced but wider. His hands were wide and his fingers were large.

He didn’t know what to do with that information, exactly, but he let it wash over his skin like the nipping kisses Harry planted on his jaw. Niall caught his breath and opened his eyes, trying to reciprocate but lagging behind, infinitesimally slow.

His teeth caught on the back of his lips as he opened his mouth to catch a breath. He pressed into a careful kiss against Harry’s lips next, testing boundaries and his own courage in tandem.

Harry kissed back a bit harder, lips insist with a smile teasing at the corners, almost like teasing. He finger-walked his hand beneath the waistbands of Niall’s pants, mouth curling slightly as he did. He slowly shucked the down and continued smiling into Niall’s mouth.

Harry pulled backward slightly, roving his hand downward as he ducked his head in towards Niall’s neck. He nosed against the buttons of the dressy uniform shirt, all while Niall was trying to place himself inside some coherent sense of _what_ precisely was happening.

Not that he objected.

“Right, so, like, unless you have a problem with it, I’m gonna blow you.”

Niall full-tilt laughed, his chest startling their bodies, jostling them apart slightly. “No objections, mate.”

“Good,” Harry hummed, clearly enthused. He immediately yanked down the waist of Niall’s trousers, taking the boxers with them swiftly. He pressed one thumb to the head of Niall’s cock.

“Shit,” Niall breathed, dropping his head back unceremoniously.

“Really rather you wouldn’t, if it’s all the same,” Harry said in low, amused tones.

“Ah, um, right.” Niall’s cheeks reddened gently, though his head remained back against the pillows of his bed.

“No, I—it was a joke. I’m not embarrassed if you’re not embarrassed.”

“M’not embarrassed, just like—not used to it. _Fuck,”_ Niall stuttered next when Harry unceremoniously sank his lips forward, acting as though _sucking Niall’s fucking prick_ was sort of no big deal whatsoever.

Harry’s mouth was warm, obviously warm, and strangely inviting in a way he hadn’t thought a lad’s mouth could ever be—not that he had considered it, really.

Niall thrust upward into Harry’s inviting lips, against he warmth of his waiting mouth. He nearly choked as Harry surged down to meet him, as he felt his cock hit the solid pressure of the back of Harry’s throat.

“Shit,” Niall murmured again, eyes tumbling shut and mouth falling open. “Fuck, that’s—yeah.” He writhed arhythmically as Harry pressed down, tongue insistent on the underside of his cock.

“I don’t even—I didn’t,” Niall stammered, wriggling his hips and planting a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry pulled off for a moment, casting him a flirtatious eye. “I know.” He snaked a hand up Niall’s bare hip, underneath the hem of his uniform shirt. Calm and steady against his body, Harry kneaded carefully with his fingers.

Then he ducked back in, insistent and ready with his lips and his tongue and his throat opening to invite Niall in. He bore down like he was born to it, like maybe—like maybe he loved it. Niall sighed again as his eyes fell shut, as he surrendered to the hollow feeling in his gut.

He felt a warmth building, a familiar warmth that countered the foreign concept of a _beautiful bloke sucking his dick,_ even as he reconciled himself the fact, even as he smiled around that idea. He loved the hum of Harry at the join of his legs, love the way their bodies melded together.

He wasn’t about to argue it because of gender, and the—the idea, the very idea fled from his brain as Harry sucked him down and nearly gagged with it, as he realized Harry had tears in his eyes.

Niall bucked gently, forcing his hand into Harry’s shoulder to ease him off. “Deep, it’s so deep—you don’t, it doesn’t have to be that—”

Harry rolled his eyes slightly and smiled around Niall’s cock as best he could with lips spread thin and eyes watering. Niall moved his fingers from Harry’s shoulder to his hair, caressing gently, kneading against his scalp.

“Really, though, it’s f—” Niall began, until Harry pressed in again, taking Niall down so deep he thought he might drown in the mere sensation. He shut up instantly, mouth falling open.

Harry pressed the top of his tongue to the underside of Niall’s cock, right against his throbbing vein.

 _“Fuck,”_ Niall stuttered, eyes shuttered tight like he might be blinded.

Harry pulled off carefully, smirking though no one could see him. “I like the vocals. Shower me in it,” he requested, before taking Niall down deep again. He gagged lightly, laughing and sputtering in succession.

“Fuck, Haz, there,” Niall obliged, pulling gently on a hank of Harry’s curly hair. “Yeah, that, please, I don’t—just yeah,” he breathed next, head thrown back with abandon.

Harry quickly twisted his hand at the base of Niall’s dick, sucking slowly and sweetly at the head, suction permeating _everything._ Nothing escaped him, not at all.

Harry left off for a moment, muttering, “Do you want me to suck your balls?”

“I want you any way you want to be,” Niall muttered, breathless, desperate.

Harry nodded with a light chuckle. “I want.”

“Th-thanks.” Niall’s voice was shattered with need and want and desire. Though he wasn’t the one sucking cock, he was short of breath and of intonation. He was clinging to the illusion that maybe he could live forever.

 _Slup._ “Don’t mention it.”

 _“Fuck.”_

Harry licked another warm, wet stripe up Niall’s dick, and he lost the ability to orient himself in time. Warmth coiled in his gut, pooling outward until his whole body hummed gently.

Harry backed off once more, stating, “You’re pretty, you know, when you’re feeling all right,” before he sucked Niall back down _deep._

“Feel—feeling more than all right,” Niall assured him, planting a hand on Harry’s shoulder to steady himself.

Harry hummed gently, the vibrations traveling up Niall’s pelvis and setting him on edge. He reeled, breath coming out in short, sharp gasps. He threw a hand back and grasped a rung on his headboard, back arching up.

Harry huffed out a breath, slick mouth leaving Niall’s cock momentarily. He pressed a spit, split-lipped kiss to Niall’s hip, then murmured, “So pretty like this, splayed out and squirming.” He pumped his fist against the base of Niall’s shaft, hand warm and calloused.

“’F yer tryin to make me self-conscious, it’s a little late in the, in the game,” Niall muttered, bucking up into Harry’s looping fist. He cracked one eye open, peering down over his own nose at Harry in his lap.

“Why would I want that?” Harry’s brows knitted together, but he once again opened his lips up and lapped at the head of Niall’s cock, tonguing the slit.

“Can’t quite tell what you—what you want, mate,” he replied breathlessly, eyes slipping shut once again.

Harry chuckled, a difficult feat with Niall in his mouth. He retreated once more, keeping his face shallow near Niall’s pelvis. “Just wanna make you come, and I happen to like sucking cock. Nothing else to it.”

“O-okay. Don’t let me interrupt.”

Harry shrugged and pressed his face in with a set look of determination ghosting over his pale irises. He licked at Niall’s slit before sucking him down deeply again, nose poking into the flesh of Niall’s abdomen. He gagged slightly, the head of Niall’s cock hitting the ridges of his throat, heat and pressure building in Niall’s stomach.

He bobbed up and down, his fist still firmly pressing around the base of Niall, his mouth and throat all-consuming. Niall bucked up carefully, swiveling his hips so as not to choke Harry—who didn’t seem to _mind._

Niall, for his part, squeezed his eyes tightly and tried to remember how to breathe. “Fuck,” he muttered at the bouncing heat pressing around and against his dick. “I’m cl-close, hey, Haz.” He moved a quavering hand to Harry’s shoulder, thumbing against his neck and he could _feel himself_ inside Harry’s throat, could physically touch the weight of himself beneath Harry’s skin.

Harry merely hummed again, his lips pressed deep against Niall, his throat opened wide. Niall stuttered out a breath and shuddered, full-body, mind going blank.

Heady warmth roiled through his stomach and chest, shudder-stopping his heart for a moment, as his vision blew stars.

As he came, fire sparked behind his eyelids and a groan tore from his mouth. He surged upward helplessly, hips sharply snapping against Harry’s face as he spent himself deep inside Harry’s yielding throat.

His muscles clenched hard against nothing, his whole body tensing as he plunged as deeply as possible into Harry.

Abruptly collapsing, he barely noticed Harry easing himself off of his cock, swiping at the spit dotting his lips. “Goddamn,” Niall muttered, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“All right?” Harry asked, voice wrecked like he’d sent it through a shredder.

“More than.” Niall sprawled across his mattress, mussing the sheets beyond decent repair. “I just—need to catch my breath, is all.”

“Take your time,” Harry replied amicably, flopping down on top of Niall’s prone torso and placing a sloppy kiss on his jaw.

Niall laughed loudly, voice hitching slightly in his throat as he did so. His cock flopped lazily as he shifted, reminding him to feel _awkward,_ for at least one moment. He tucked himself back into his trousers, careful not to jostle Harry. “Um, want me to return the—the favour?”

Harry shrugged. “Not really into tricking a straight bloke, like, jack me off. I can take care of it.”

“That doesn’t—make me homophobic, does it?”

“Reckon not.”

“I’m—not entirely sure what I am, I guess.”

“Not a sufficient enough experiment for you, science student?” Harry smiled indulgently, cheeks dimpling.

“Not just a one-off, then?” Niall asked, quiet but vaguely hopeful.

“Replication study is the phrase you’re looking for.”

“That sounds very official.”

“Well, unofficially, I might have bribed Lou to stay out of the room while I seduced you under the guise of revising.”

Niall laughed loudly and rolled his eyes at Harry’s cheeky grin. “Effective seduction technique. The chemistry puns practically write themselves.”

“What, like mistaking a hadron collider for a hard-on collider?” Harry paused, considering. “Actually that one wasn’t—”

“No way. That was shit and you will not convince me otherwise.” He ran a hand through Harry’s messy curls. “Where’d you learn to deepthroat?”

Harry scoffed. “I’m a gay guy at a boarding school. Practically swimming in chances to jump on a cock.”

“And you’re _here_ because?”

“Pulling a straight guy actually presents a bit of a challenge. Theoretically straight, anyway.” Harry’s bravado was belied by the goofy, bright grin on his face. He did not, for all his talents, look like a lothario.

“Right, if you say so. Not that I protested too much. Your mouth is kind of obscene.”

“And my roommate bet I couldn’t pull you,” Harry said, continuing with his bright smile.

“What, you gonna go around bragging about what a slag I am?” Niall’s eyebrows rose up beneath his fringe.

“No, that’s—that’s not really my style.”

Niall scoffed awkwardly, feeling his cheeks flush. “Tell me, Styles, what’s your style?”

“Anything that doesn’t entail dragging straight blokes out of the closet.” He sucked his lower lip into his mouth momentarily, thinking. “Never ends well. They go kicking and screaming, whinging about how a mouth is a mouth and it’s just somewhere warm to stick their dicks.”

“Not really my style either,” Niall murmured.

“Fair enough. Anyway, I’m gonna go wank and clean up before dinner. I expect a two-page essay about your scientific findings by tomorrow evening, yeah?” he added, smile dimpling his cheeks once more. “The more complimentary you are, the higher marks I’ll give you.”

Niall raised his eyebrows. “What’ll high marks earn me?”

“Huh. Uh. We can recreate that pottery scene from Ghost in the Arts wing one of these evenings, yeah?” He swatted ineffectually at Niall’s hands, scrambling off the bed. “I’ll split the ten quid from Zayn with you.” He picked up his textbook and adjusted himself in his uniform trousers and moved the desk chair away from the door. “Thanks for the chemistry help!” he called, beaming as he exited the room.

_“What the fuck.”_

Harry pressed at the door with the heel of one foot, ducking his head back into the room. “Think I might need help tomorrow too, mate, if you’re good for it.” He winked once and left for good.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me, lord knows I deserve it
> 
> tumblr: musiclily
> 
> OH, and yes the title is a weird combination between the ~scientific method and the film A Dangerous Method. Because I make terrible jokes. I AM HORRIBLE


End file.
